Page 46 of My Blind Date is a Ghost

“Your readers must be anxious for the next scene,” I say.

“Yeah,” she says glumly. “We don’t have a lot compared to other people, but the followers we do have are pretty intense. We have, like, eight hundred supporters on Patreon, and they keep asking for more stuff.”

I shake my head. “Sorry, I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“It’s cool,” she says. “Basically, people are paying a subscription fee to be the first to see our stuff. And if I had more free time, I could make more stuff for them to buy. But between working here and at Landon’s school and spending time with my family, I haven’t had time.”

“Wait,” I say. “You have subscribers? As in, people paying a monthly fee just to sit and wait for you to make more of this web comic? How much are you making?”

“So, like half of them only pay a dollar a month, but the other half pay ten dollars.”

“So, you are already making over four thousand dollars a month?”

“Yeah.”

“And if you had more time, they would buy more things from you? And you could create more, and get more followers and make more money?”

“Darling, why are you working here?”

“Well, half of that money is Parker’s. The story is his; the art is mine. And the money isn’t constant. Like, we might have fewer patrons next month—”

“But you can just get more,” I say.

“I mean, I guess. But I don’t want to upset Beverly. And she’s training me to do witch stuff.”

“You want to be a witch?” I ask.

She pauses for a moment, as though shocked I just asked her that.

“Umm, no, not really. But it’s cool to be able to do magic.”

I take a deep breath so as not to show my frustration. “But what is your ideal life? Does magic play a role in it?”

“I…I guess not,” she says. “No one’s really asked me that before. I mean, really, I’m kind of living my ideal life, but not at the level I want. Like, I want to make the webcomics with Parker. I just want to be an artist.”

“Then be an artist,” I say. “Keep the job with Landon for a bit of steady income and to continue honing your craft. But quit working here and go for what you really want.”

“You really think I should?” she asks. “You think I can do it?”

“You’re already doing it!” I think I am more excited about this than she is. “You just need to take it to the next level.”

“Yeah…yeah, you’re right. I just need to tell Beverly—”

“Tell me what?” Beverly asks, approaching the counter carrying a box of books to unpack.

“Umm…I…” Dianna can’t seem to get her words out.

“Dianna quits,” I announce triumphantly. “She’s going to be a real artist.”

“Cora!” Dianna stage yells at me.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Beverly says, hardly noticing. “Just leave your key when you go, dear. You can pick up your last check tomorrow.”

“What?” Dianna asks. “You…you’re not mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you for following your life’s path?”

“You think this is my life’s path?”

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